Weds day off

I had today off, and i guess I had a decent day. Last night after working a day shift I hung out with my old bartender Big E from the vine to discuss his very wrongful firing after he worked there for 16 years. Not cool to hear what he talked about nor what direction my old stomping ground was going, but it was expected that they run themselves into the ground. I'm glad I got out when I did.
As for today, I got up before noon, made breakfast and watched some DVR'd wrestling from the night before. I played some video games after and then took Jenny on a nice long walk to tire her out. Something that definitely struck me as wrong was that here we are, walking around town in a tank top and shorts in 85 degree sunny weather. Not bad right? Only problem is that its winter still...in February. There's just something not right with that.
We got back home and I tinkered around on the internet for a few before starting to cook dinner.
I ended up using a jar of jerk seasoning Doug gave me as part of his birthday culinary adventure he gave me on some chicken. It was phenomenal. Very much spicy, but it had me craving more.
I also stir-fried up some veggies and chow mien noodles to go along with it. It was quite delicious.
I was able to get ahold of my cousin Jenny and chatted with her for a bit. We talked about he upcoming job at a park we all grew up around next to our old grandparents home, and the possibility of making a solid effort to try and all go to the Azores this summer. It was a good chat.Off to work in the morning again!

My Flaws

Marc's flaws are that he is lazy and unmotivated a lot of the time. Wherein once he gets going on something, there isn't much to stop him, but that is only counteracted by getting him to do it in the first place. He will put something off for " tomorrow" or claim lack of time to do it. He can use assistance or persuasiveness to get up off his ass.

He hates phone calls and puts off returning calls or especially emails. It doesn't matter if its a family member, friend or business, unless you get a hold of him the first time, expect to wait.

He has trouble initiating conversation or communication especially if its with new people or even with those close to him on touchy subjects. He's made improvements, but still shys away from it.

Marc is a very introverted, quiet "B" type personality. He isn't a go-getter or trend setter. It makes him susceptible to mediocrity and getting comfortable with things too fast, which then is compounded by laziness. This affects everything from personal and family relationships, to work and his social status.

He does not like crowds and prefers a good amount of alone time unless its with very close friends.

He's afraid of major changes because of his comfort levels at times. He does know that change is a good thing and usually is accepted, but he does not actively go out to look for change for the most part.

Marc has various personal habits that may be destructive or annoying. That includes watching his weight, his drinking, sleeping habits, a bad nail biting habit, not taking care of his teeth well, diet and intestinal health. He also has a good amount of past and current emotional and physical problems that haunt him which could use a good shrink at times to possibly explain the thoughts that run around in his head sometimes that don't make sense.

He has some personal mental vices that only he will ever know.

He is a perfectionist at times and likes to have things happen his way. Most of the time it really is a good way to have a thing happen the way it does, but he doesn't work well with others if they are a strong personality type. Things must be explained with tactful sense if he is to budge or negotiate with or on something, otherwise he will not even do anything.

He hates indecisiveness, tardiness, flaking out, abrasiveness, aggressiveness, glory hounds, outspokenness, kissing ass, drama queens, and snobbishness.

He does not tolerate being used and misused. If you are on his bad side, he will ruminate on it for a very long time and chances are will not let a grudge go unless one apologizes.

Marc can't stand stupid people who do stupid things, especially after giving them advice.

He has a problem getting along with children and rarely knows how to interact with them.

He has fears of death, heights, bugs, being buried alive, roller coasters, large tight crowds and failing his duties with friends and family.

His emotions can fluctuate at the drop of a hat. He can go from happy na denergetic to angry, sad, vengeful, spiteful, ignorant, depressed, sleepy, disillusioned or disheartened for the smallest of reasons.

He is allergic to and so very much so, hates cats.

Although curious about how things work, he is not mechanically inclined.

These are some of the things that are his flaws.

My Attributes

Marc is a hard worker when there is a job to be done. If there is a task put in front of him that is needed to be done, whether demanded out of necessity or on his own convictions, the deed is going to be done, and will be done at the highest level of dedication and quality that he can make it at.

He is a provider, a caterer towards hospitality out of his own free will. He stands with open arms to go out of his way to make someone feel pleased, whether it be with food, beverage, gifts, deeds or support. When he does something out of his heart for someone, there is no asking of reciprocity. Acknowledgement of a heartfelt deed is sufficient with an honest thank you.

He is money wise. It took him a little bit of time to learn lessons on his own in the past, but with gentle guidance from his father, responsibility and frugality are passed on. Even though he still has to know what hard times are, he respects the money he makes and saves when he can. Thankful for the financial blessings he's had presented to him over the years, he is forever thankful. While understanding the needs to save, he also understands that money is not everything and enjoys occasionally spending money on himself to experience life.

He is a traveller and yearns to experience more of the world when he can. He is best and prefers travelling with others as to make the experience richer, but sometimes is unfortunate not to have companions along for adventures. If he could travel for a living, he would be a happy man.

Marc is a dog person, no doubt about it and wouldn't have it any other way.

He has instinctive culinary skills and loves to experience new techniques and experiments with food. He hardly has any recipes memorized and works best when working on the fly in the kitchen. Any time he makes a signature dish, it isn't the same but equally as good. He only cooks in big portions and lives to cook for others and considers it insulting to have guests not even try a bite of food.

He is dedicated to his family as he will never have another one like it.

He is a great lover in the physical sense and emotional too, but needs work on the latter.

He can accept criticism of his person without losing his temper if its done with sense, constructively and without malice.

He will never let anyone change the person he is after learning that lesson the hard way.

Always willing to learn something new, he is curious of the way things work in the world. Even if its not vocalized, he asks himself how, what, why or why not.

A talented person, he is astoundingly creative in the arts and written word when he lets himself be, as long as he casts away the laziness.

He has a very easy temperament which takes a very long time to heat up and burst. Don't be around when it does, but he is always calm and non-confrontational.

Marc is always adaptable when he lets himself in any situation. He's orderly, calculated and planned out. Predictable at times unless he planned ahead to be unpredictable. Clean, helpful, steadfast and reliable are words that come to mind.

These are most of the things that are his attributes.

Choppers

I decided to take a first step to a better me this year by going into the dentist for the first time in 2 years. Did I ever get a wake up call. Before I go into it, let me throw out a special shout out to my old dentist. I hope that you go play in traffic today. How did you get your dental degree? I should have known something was up with him when all he had in his office was scuba diving magazines and framed pictures of white tigers in space scenes with glitter. My new dentist was amazed. He'd never seen a person get 11 cavities in 2 years and not have good cleanings done previously.

So that's what's in store for me, 11 cavities including 1 root canal and 1 crown, then a deep cleaning and 1 bridge to be done. Over $6000 worth of grill work.

Damn, that's a new Kia compact car. Let me also thank my insurance for restructuring their plan wherein I only get $1000 worth of coverage per year before its all out of pocket. Oh and I'm paying $53 a month for it. And in March the premium is being raised. Looks like I'll be cancelling coverage in March, assholes.

I had my first set of fillings last Weds. Turns out he couldn't salvage one tooth without a root canal, so next Weds I have that fun task to be done. Because of the root canal, I need a crown. Then I get the rest of my fillings done. I should have started work in December, because then I would have another $1000 to play with. Now I'm screwed.

Well, maybe on the plus side, I'll drop some weight because of the lack of use of my mouth over the next few months, and whatever I spend on medical bills can be used as a tax write off.

Carpe diem

Carpe diem
.
Carpe diem is a phrase from a Latin poem by Horace (See "Source" section below).
It is popularly translated as "seize the day". The general definition of carpe is "pick, pluck, pluck off, gather" as in plucking or picking a rose or apple, although Horace uses the word in the sense of "enjoy, make use of, seize."


seize the day
seize the day
seize the day
seize the day


bless you all......

Static Flow pt 1 of 2

I had taken a break from reading a book and was lying on my back on my sofa staring at the ceiling at one of my planes hanging motionless from fishing line.

Earlier on in the book I was reading, Steven Kotler touched on the subject of flow. The state of being in which an individual no longer recognizes certain conscious elements as time, or being a separate being from the element or activity that the person is experiencing. His experiences with surfing, as well as mine playing around in the ocean encompass this.

Athletes describe this as being in the zone. Your abilities come into full fruition and top out on your own ability to match the activity at hand.

A mountain climber may not remember most of the technical parts of a 2000 ft climb and describe the scenario as if his body acted on its own, all the while their mind hovers in between a conscious and subsconcious dreamstate.

Most of my experiences with a flow state occurred in high school wen I was in swimming or water polo matches. Being a longer distance swimmer, my experiences were more profound than say a sprinter who's zoning session may only last 30-90 seconds if that. On nearly every meet I swam a 500 free, it meant about 5-6 minutes of being in a different state of mind. You get over the initial shock of the starting gun and the cold water greeting your body upon entry, and soon enough, you are going through the motions.

I tended not to remember much while I swam my events. My body was there, and occasionally it would remind me of the efforts given, but my mind was definitely elsewhere. Your senses dull, and some become non-existent. Touch became muted, as if your skin melded with the water. Obviously taste and smell were eliminated while in the water. Despite the thrashing arms, legs and whitewater, you heard near nothing. Sometimes when I have access to a pool deeper than 6 ft, I swim to the deep end, dive down to the bottom, blow out enough air to become neutrally buoyant and just sit on the bottom.

The silence is peacefully deafening. Its a state of suspension, and until recently, a comforting experience.

Static flow pt 2 of 2

It was that element of suspension that I was becoming aware of as I was staring at that plane hanging stoically from the ceiling. That is one boring plane, I told myself. Day in and day out, it just hangs there. I wanted, in that very moment, for it to snap off the lines and plummet to the carpet below. Just for the sake of change and movement.

That's when I started to compare my routing existence to that plane. Daily, the routines are the same. Minutes whisk away into hours, hours into days, days into months. Next thing I know, my years are flying by and I've been sitting static, comfortable with my surroundings and numb to the world. Usually that happens when you experience the flow, but I haven't been in that state for years. That's what's disturbing.

As kids, we are not too wise in the rational aspects of life. We try things out, and if they are pleasurable, we do it again. If they cause trauma, chances are, we know its bad so we don't do it again. As we have gotten older(though sometimes not really wiser), our rationality prohibits us from just going and doing something. We talk ourselves out of things because gas costs too much, we may get into trouble, we may get hurt, something is too far, too dirty or whatever.

My point being, is that we don't jump anymore. Experiencing something different takes that leap, or that jump from ourselves to do that new experience. Comfort and rationality now is the bain of adulthood. Next thing you know, you're near elderly, haven't done your share of jumping and are to the point of not being able to do anything about it.

I've dished out a lot of introspective talk about taking that next leap but haven't done a thing about it. Is it getting over fear? What made that first recreational skydiver leap out of a perfectly good airplane? Or the bungee jumper to step off the ledge? Ask most bungee jumpers or people with falling phobias what scares them the most about it and they will say that its not the fall that scares them, but the landing that puts the fear in them.

That fear of landing, the crashing uncontrollably to your demise is the premise to trying new things. It's not the journey, or the falling into something new, but if you try something new and fail by landing on your face is the downside. The reward however should supersede the potential failure. The journey of attempting something new gives you that ravenous opening up the Christmas presents under the tree feeling of giddiness coupled with the success of achieving your goal while you sit amidst chewed up wrapping paper in awe with your new toys.

There's a Maori saying that to experience a spiritual journey or heightened enlightenment, God has to know that there's blood on the line. Its a roundabout way of saying that the reward is equal to the risk. Live a static life, and you're not going to have much excitement or very much to talk about. Find you're flow in life in experiencing what you can to the fullest and that flow state should be endless.

All it takes is that first jump. Think of doing the hardest thing you could do, then go do something doubly hard. After that, everything else you used to do is cake. Probably because its been on my mind, but I had a dream of jumping out of a plane last night.

Its time to jump. I may need a shove, but I need to jump.

Still too hot

Well, after my 15 hr coma last night, I got up, made a damn tasty veggie & meat breakfast burro with extra hot peppers (which I'll regret later...), checked my emails & got my daily computer fix. After which, I felt like getting out and doing something despite the 108 degrees today. I got my gear on, aired my tires and turned on the ipod for a 10 mile bike ride.

It started off well as within the first 1/2 mile, some wannabe hot shot bike commuter on his cruiser, wearing slacks and a tie decided he wanted to try and dust me. Well, he did...then he ran out of juice a 1/4 mile later as I warmed up and got my cadence going enough to zoom past him and hold a pace. Poor lower management boy tried to catch up, but the only times he actually got close enough to taste matching me is when I stopped for stop signs. He ran through them all and it would have been even sweeter justice if a cop was nearby...

Anyways, I turned south and rode 3 miles off road along the canal path system. That's when I didn't like breakfast any longer. Spicy heartburn and veggies don't taste good coming up, but it is good for searing your throat with hot lava acid. That sucked. Eventually I drank enough water and slowed enough to manage it. On the way home it wasn't the heartburn that kicked my ass, but the heat and the usual numbing of my hands and lower arms that comes with riding and being too top heavy on my chest and shoulders.

That's the part of riding that sucks. I really do like bike riding, but after 6-8 miles my arms go numb. I don't have that problem with cruisers obviously, but I can't exactly get a good ride or go off road on a 3 speed beach cruiser.

I'm home, sweaty and ready for a relaxing night. I still need to see if I work tomorrow or not.

My most addictive habit

I slept for 15 hours last night. Me in my little dark cave in the extra bedroom that I sleep in during the summer because the room is coolest then. Jenny is out just as much as I am when I'm in my cave. I can't help it, I just love sleeping. Fact of the matter was that I could have easily gone on longer today but my phone went off waking me up.

I suppose being asleep has underlying reasons for me. One, I'm a lazy SOB and just plain like it too much. Two, my bed isn't exactly the most comfortable one for me anymore, so it takes longer to feel at ease and get solid rest. Thirdly, I think sleep is more of an escape for me. I have no responsibilities when I sleep. Its like a at ease 10+ hour vacation from what is now, again, my repetitive boring existence in this state. In my dreams, which are honestly more engaging when nothing exciting happens in real life, I literally can live a "dream life". AS of lately too, I've been bored around home with not too many people hanging out, and its caused my dreams to be more and more lucid. I've had dreams lately where my adrenalin has me pumped up enough that I've woken up to see my bedding thrown off. Whether it be fighting dreams, falling, flying or running, my dreams have been really interactive. So much so that I'm a little upset when I wake up because the dream never finished.

I travel alot in my dreams, almost always by foot, and I'm usually trying to find a location or something or leaving a area because I don't want someone to find me. I'm not in a panic when I am in those situations, I'm calm and collected, and actually methodical enough in my dreams to consciously (in my subconscious) work out a solution.

I like to sleep because it gives me total freedom to live a life that I am not currently achieving in reality.

The downside, usually I do not find my goals, destinations or objects sought in my dreams. It's my subconscious making myself aware of my unmotivation in real life. Regardless, sleep for me is addictive. Its not that I need that many hours of sleep to function daily, that is covered by about 5-6 hours. It's the lazy pleasure of being out cold.

It's not like I could really do anything outdoors like I want anyways, since it won't be under 105 degrees until late September. In certain aspects, summertime is hibernation time for the big bear. The irony is that until I moved out here, I relished summertime. No school, playing outside all day, going out to the beach, the park, the mall or just on a long walk. Now you have the real fear of heat stroke, 3rd degree sunburn and exploding on contact with the pavement.

Sleep seems like a good alternative to that right now.

Catatrophic Mission Failure

Before I tell my woes, let me first state that it was 111 degrees today.

111 degrees.

So, in my ultimate test of possible frugality, I've decided to see how possible or stressful it would be to ride my bike to work during any day shifts I may work.

The logistics-it's 16 miles one way to work from home. 32 round trip.

Which means that I burn 2 gallons of gas each time I drive to work, which equates to just under $10 a day to go to work. When I work dayshifts I make about $35, that definitely is not acceptable.

So, today, my day off, I decided to test myself under the most stressful conditions to see if I could handle it. I left at 1:40 pm at 111 degrees. It was hot, damn hot. The two water bottles I had iced up for the trip were hot enough to brew tea by the halfway point.

I was hot, too hot and starting to suffer from heat exhaustion-lethargy, slow thought, reduced sweating, dulled senses by about mile 12. With about 2 miles to go, I decided to not push it too much and just decided to coast slowly for the homestretch.

Keeping in mind I easily can do this ride under average conditions, but then again...this isn't average conditions.

Then it happened. I'm 1 1/2 miles from work, stopped at a light waiting. BAMM!!! HIIiiiisssss. Oh you're kidding me. Nope, a blowout. Luckily I was well equipped for a flat. Unfortunately not a blowout.

111 degrees+130 degree asphalt + constant riding and tire friction= ruptured tire and innertube. Yeah, can't fix that. So now with impending heat exhaustion turning to heat stroke, I had to walk the remaining mile and a half to work. On arriving I was so overheated that I stopped sweating. I downed a bottle of water and then 2 small pitchers. I started to sweat again, even in a air conditioned building. I should have just poured the water on me and cut out the middle man. I was the reverse sponge.

I got my bearings and hydration back and called out for a rescue. Chris came up after he got out of work and hauled my tired ass home.

I showered, consumed more water, and more water and more water. Finally I managed to take a small piss, a dehydrated, vitamin infused leak that amounted to about a cup. Not good.

I may want to reconsider my transportation options in terms of bike riding until lower temperatures. So in the meantime, I guess I'll be paying $10 a day to drive to work.

Posing a question to myself.

Well, in conjunction to my asking of my friends and family questions to answer about myself (see prior posts), I thought of one that I may try to ask and answer to myself.
Plus, maybe it will give insight to yourself too.
That being-
Lets say that you died tomorrow. With or without believing in heaven or hell or an afterlife, what would you leave behind? What imprint on the world would you leave? Would it be any sort of legacy or just dust in the wind?
What would people remember you by?
Would you have died knowing you lived a life of regret or fulfilment?
I think I will be pondering on this for a day or so. I don't work until Tuesday night, so outside of tidying up the garden and some creative projects, I should get some writing or reading done.

3 times a year

I'm good for about 3 times a year that I get a nasty virus. Of course, one of those times ALWAYS has to happen in the fun summer heat. I got up yesterday and had a small sore throat, but nothing else. About 5 hours later I felt like I had 100 lbs of sandbags sitting on me. I thought I was just tired, but out of nowhere in 90 degree heat at 3pm I got so chilled that I bundled up on the couch with a blanket. I just took it easy all day and does up with vitamins and supplements to give my immunities a boost for what I knew was going to be a long night.

I went to bed at 1130 in the midst of severe chills with winter blankets on me. After an hour of keeping the chills off, then came the fever. I threw off the blankets at 4 am to find my entire mattress soaked through with sweat. Then it was too cold, then came more sweats, then cold. I finally got comfortable enough to find balance and slept until 130pm.

It's a nice added punishment on top of my busted knee. Fyi, last night I changed the dressing on it, rewashed and disinfected it and ended up pulling a fucking pebble embedded from out of one of the cuts. That was great. I've also run out of roll gauze so now I have a Jeri-rigged bandage on it.

The crappy part is that two of my co-workers offered up work shifts for me tonight. I really could have used the money, seriously. But I know that I should get myself better. I have to work tomorrow morning anyway, so I should get rest and knock this sickness out.

Now if y'all will excuse me, I'm going to pop some more meds.

question 1

How powerful is the “miracle question?”For those of you not familiar with the miracle question, it’s one of the key techniques used by solution-focused coaches and counsellors.

There are many ways to phrase it but essentially it goes like this:Let’s say something miraculous happens when you are sleeping tonight and the problem we’ve been speaking about (new job/new partner/more happiness/etc) is gone. Now you wake up and since you’ve been asleep you don’t know that a miracle has happened but there’s a knock on your door. You open it and there is your best friend/your sister or brother/your boss and he/she comes into your place. As someone who knows you well, how would they know that something has changed?What would they see or hear or touch that would be different?

Answer-

I think that the question is a decent one, but there are so many variants to answer to. AS to the "problem" at hand, whether it is finding ones self, a new job, family, personal happiness, etc.

If finding ones self is the solution, how does one go about describing ones self after finding ones self if you don't know what finding ones self entails? I think no matter what the problem is, a generalized answer to what I would be like would make the most sense.

I'd be happy for one. I'd have a very relaxed persona, a gentler face and expressions and a seemingly ease of going about things on a daily basis, whether it be opening the door to greet a guest to going shopping to doing physical labors.

I'd feel and appear healthier, rested and relieved, happy to wake up to a new day every day no matter what I had planned that day.

My conversations wouldn't center on rants or complaints or worries.

I'd be more happy and thankful for what I have as opposed to worrying about making my ends meet with whatever work I have.

I'd be laughing more and not seemingly confused or worrisome as much. I also don't think I'd drink as much anymore. Not that I drink to escape anything, I just find it enjoyable, and if my entire life was more enjoyable, I'd be able to rely on other things besides that vice to feel the same.

I'd generally be a better person to be around and people would be more open to hanging out with me to do things, even if its just to do nothing but sit around.

As for people seeing and touching my physical environment, I was never too too big on bragging about personal property, and I live comfortable enough within my means that people wouldn't notice anything really different around my surroundings. There may be more items of family importance and items that would instill play and enjoyment, but nothing fancy.

101000j29b019

20 questions about finding a penguin

I've seemingly taken on a task that has daunted every person's life on this earth, past or present. The quest to try and find one's self. I've gotten advice from all sides, from my parents, girlfriend, accquaintances, childhood friends and best friends. The advice hit on different angles ranging from stopping to think so hard and let go, to finding a test to do on your own, to accepting the fact of that's who you are and living with it instead of changing it to find yourself to the ever vague and ubiquitous just do what makes you happy.

All is good advice and each had valid arguments. Even thousands of miles away Dirty was philosophising that even the most inconceivable and minuscule occurrences could have contributed to what has or will or would have happened in your life to make the person you see in the mirror every day.

An individual pocket sized chaos theory if you will. That nickle you barely missed seeing in the gutter as you walked home from from school when you were 8 could have gotten you a gumball, but instead found its way into another kids piggy bank, which then found its way to a college fund, then to an IRA account and will be used to buy a pen that will write a hundred thousand dollar check for a new home.

What I found myself laughing to myself a bit today was that I heard a piece of valid advice from a children's movie about surfing penguins we watched a few days ago.

That being that we all have to find our own way.

Either I'm going insane by ignoring valid advice from loved ones and listening to a cartoon penguin surfer with a California accent or I've been blind to guidance lately.

So, I sparked a interesting help to myself project a day ago, by sending out emails to roughly about 20 people I consider close to me asking them to ask me a question about myself to answer to myself. My thinking is that by doing a self assessment assignment on myself, maybe I can start to answer questions to myself that I had not previously known or thought about. As of today, only one person has returned with a question for me. I'm waiting for a few more before I start tackling them.

I'm hoping that at the very least, I can use it as a medium to look internally at myself and possibly as a touchstone for understanding the penguin surfing creed.

Day 18-Tomorrow is not just another day

My truck is packed and all I have to do in the morning is wake up, have breakfast and say my goodbyes. Everything is going to be a breeze except for that last part. It really does not make any sense as to why I HAVE to head back to Phoenix tomorrow. I have no job, my bills are paid, even after telling my boss I'll be available to help for St. Patrick's day I still don't know if he penciled me in on the schedule. My mom is showing more disappointment in me leaving in the morning, and even Dad, as stoic as he is, showed some signs of him not wanting me to head back.
In his efforts to have me bring back as much of "home" with me as he can make me, he pretty much picked clean his orange and tangelo trees into a huge box, some grape vines and a potted plant for me to put in the yard, even a 50 lb sack of his own compost to plant with (which I will say is pretty damn good dirt). I'll come back with more than I left with, whether it be the above items, or other food stuffs, or kitchen gadgets, clothes, etc...I always find a way to transplant stuff to Arizona.
There is a conflict of interests however. Dad says that in order to move back here, I have to find a decent job first. Job first, then the house. I can rent a apartment and store the extra stuff in their garage until a home becomes available, or even live in this house for the time being. As tempting as it may be, I don't want to turn into grandma's boy.
Mom on the other hand says to just say the word and not worry about a immediate job or a decent trade for my house in AZ. Dad's idea would be the safer idea, but Mom's idea has it's own benefits too.
Today seemed to feel like a condemned man's last day. A final breakfast (Dad made a special Portuguese blood sausage egg scramble, so now I can say that I've had it), a final walk with Jenny, packing everything up, a last dinner and a long sit watching a movie saying nothing. We don't have to say anything, we know what the other is thinking.
I stayed productive on this trip, did some intuitive thinking, only touched booze for 3 days(lightly) when Doug was here, experienced new things in my backyard as well as revisited some old standbyes. I enjoy and miss my family so very much when I am away. Here I am as true to myself as I can be. The rest of the time away is dealing with excuses for me not being true to myself or being able to relax and let go. Somehow that can't be healthy.
At dinner my Dad spouted out of nowhere, "When you get back, you call us. You call us more often. WE are your family, not everyone else out there. We stick together."
Considering his old school ways, this outburst of emotion has no choice but to ring true.
Twelve years ago, which felt like a week ago, I was nothing more than a young inexperienced hot shot punk who thought he knew everything and that the world should rise to meet me. Now a big part of me regrets taking that last step onto that plane bound for Phoenix. There were things I experienced that I wouldn't give up for the world as well as those I could have done without in Arizona, but I also missed a lot of crucial things back here. If it's fate I'm tossing this excuse out to, then it's what it has in store for me. IF I'm the master of my own destiny, then all I have to look for faults in is myself. If there is a higher power involved, it better get a lot clearer real fast less I stop thinking it be a possibility for existence.
I must get to bed now and toss and turn myself to sleep, hoping that I wake up in the morning with the superpower ability to stop time instead of the usual ass gas attack ability.

Day 17-A long lost family day

Today was a good day, one that seemed far to infrequent to me as a child. A day of spending the entire day with eachother, experiencing something familiar to us all, but changed so that it was all a new experience. As per his style, Dad is always reluctant to go somewhere or try something different, but he ends up breaking down and liking the experience. Today we all decided to head to Monterey and spend the day there. What was nice was that since it was a weekday during the off season, it was pretty much empty. The main touristy spot-Cannery Row, the aquarium and downtown were empty and some was under construction, which also deterred some travellers. We came anyways, almost not getting there after a useless traffic delay heading south with Caltrans shutting down half the highway for 2 miles to pave over a pothole.

I haven't been to Monterey in a decade, and even then, I don't think I appreciated the situation as much as I do now, and definitely the people I was with. What the beauty of the Aquarium there does is that it really does make your life seem insignificant when it comes to the whole. Yes, they take various parts of the vast seas and cram this endlessness into glass cages, but the diversity makes its voice thrust upon you. What is unappreciated is that the vast life of the sea, that took millions of years to evolve, is taking us about a few hundred years to destroy.

It stings a bit to realize something that you are connected to is hurting bad. I'm not trying to get all eco-tree hugger here, but the ocean is just something I've always had a connection to. What else do you expect out of a water sign that was raised near the ocean?

At least it's reflective on all points. Some things move so slow in life and take so much time that the end doesn't seem to exist. Others move by in time so fast that you barely noticed that it just happened.

Some things in life are hectic and over-structured but are necessary to maintain order. Others are meant to be enjoyed, carefree in their random dances.

Regardless, there will always be people in your life that will stand by you, even when you are wrong. They will break your fall, or let you fall just hard enough so that you can learn lessons.

We spent the afternoon at the aquarium, wandering from life exhibits to others, witnessing what diversity the world we never see has to offer. Afterwards, we wandered outside a bit, headed through downtown, and then took the long coastal route north on the 1 for it's aesthetic value. As if we had anywhere to be. We stopped by Duarte's in the isolated coastal town of Pescadero. This place was featured on Food Network, so we decided to give it a try. Thumbs up on the soup and the Ollaliberry pie, but I've had better calamari in many other places. To put it bluntly, if I was ever down on the coast beach hopping or passing by and craved a slice of pie, I'd stop. Otherwise, not. Over that late lunch, we discussed our past Portuguese family recipes in comparison to some of the restaurant owner's family inspired menu items. Apparently now I need to try my hand at making rice pudding.

We split up the coast to Half Moon Bay, stopped at the farm & feed store to get some of dad's pigeon feed supplies, and then headed home after a 9 hour, 220 mile loop around the bay area and central coast. We spent the remainder of the night eating a very late dinner and sitting at home discussing with eachother.

I started feeling depressed tonight. Depressed knowing that tomorrow would be my last day here in my current adventure before heading back to Arizona and/or other points. Even Jenny knows something is up as she has been buttering up everyone to excess the past day. Friday will probably be a hard day, and the first few days back in Phoenix will be moody and depressing. I've been trying to convince my folks to head down in the end of April, but Dad always seems to find an excuse, whether it be taxes or doctors or something else that amounts to nothing more than an excuse. Since they can't tolerate the heat any longer, if they don't head down next month, I'll have to wait until October till they can drive here. And don't get me started on their excuses for not flying.

I'm already pre-packed pretty well, and all I have to do tomorrow is tie off loose ends and then squeeze in as much time with my family as I possibly can.

Day 16-Defying feeling my age

Pictureless day today, just mental imagery. Today was an unexpected, but refreshingly physical day. After breakfast I joined Mom and Dad and Jenny on a long walk up to the pharmacy to pick up some meds for Mom. Dad and I engaged in a coin radar war...of which later on, I will win. En route, Dad found 3 pennies and I found 2. He won that battle. After we got back, I felt the need to expunge a bit more energy, so I drove up to Edgewood park again and hiked around the mountains for a few miles. It was a little busier than last time with more hikers, and down in the parking lot picnic area, a few families were having a get together. The group of kids were having a ball playing red light/green light. I can say I was a participant in many a game in my day. It occurred to me that when I had played here as a kid, and not necessarily that game, but I would notice random people coming and going through the park entrances and trailheads wondering what they were doing. Things come around full circle, because now I was that guy that I, and the kids today, were wondering about.
I got back, took a shower and grabbed mom to do some shopping at Ross and TJ Maxx. I picked up some cheap housewares at both places, so I am going to be coming back with some cool trinkets and stuff. We got back and Mom started cooking dinner before they headed off to choir practice.
Seeing that tomorrow we would be at Monterey and Thursday will be a family and loose ends day before I leave, this would be the last free afternoon I'd have back home. I guess that was motivating enough to not spend it sitting on my ass on the couch. We ate dinner quickly and I grabbed my ball before it got too dark and walked over to Woodland for a final time of shooting baskets. After about 45 minutes, the sun had set and it was getting dark. I did however, find a dime-Dad 3 cents, me 12...I win.
Parents gone to choir practice, I left real quick to pick up a few donuts at chuck's to make mom and dad happy. Once again, they are quite unbelievably tasty, and cheap. On their return, they got knuckles deep in the box of donuts, then we relaxed a bit watching Dirty Jobs on Discovery.
I get the feeling that I may be sore tomorrow. I know I have been the past 2 days from the bike ride and more hiking and walking and bball, so today might finally work off the remainder of the rust in me, or at least I hope so. At least it makes me tired, which is good, so I can sleep harder before waking up early manana to hopefully a good family day out, which is something we haven't done in about a decade.

Day 14-Questioning the process

"It is hard to tell of happiness. Time goes by, and we get comfortable too soon."

My parents wish me to stay longer, and I want to stay home longer as well. Granted, I didn't make solid promises that I WOULD be in Phoenix for St. Patricks day, I said I would try to be back around then.

Today I committed myself to that. I talked to my boss and said I'd be home this next weekend and would be available to assist at work for 3 days. I know people would like to have me back in phoenix, some have birthdays, some could use me for work, and some just miss me. Honestly, I don't care. It stings me greatly to make the decision to return, as if someone is reaching in my chest and squeezing my heart. I feel so much better here. I don't have breathing problems, my skin has cleared up and I actually look healthy. I've lost a couple of pounds, I eat better, sleep better, act better. Most importantly my family is here. I actually saw my Mom's face and felt her heart sink when I told her I planned to return to Phoenix later this week. It felt horrible to make her feel unhappy. Seeing that she has motivation to do things when I'm around, has someone to take her out, someone to talk with, to travel with and finally experience life a little more with. And then I leave and take that all away. It's a feeling that does not sit well with me. In fact it makes me feel sick. Angry also a bit, that the person she should be doing most of it with, my father, does not.

I'm getting around to my question here in a minute. First a discussion. Back in art school, one of the first things we were taught, especially about still life pieces was that still life's root meanings break down to life and death. I remembered that as I walked around the neighborhood at dusk. We set the clocks forward last night, so the sun was up well past 7pm. It was a warm day today, the kind of comforting warmth that melts the chill out of everything for a little, letting you know spring is coming. All the trees in the area are in bloom, everything is coming to life. Walking around in this warmth, the faint sweet smell of blossoms filled the air. I remembered then, that it is all temporary. Just like the existences of fruits and plants in those old paintings, as here in this photo of my father's fruit trees-8 months from now those blossoms will be gone, replaced by fruit, which if not eaten, will fall, rot, and return to nothing. This photo will one day disappear, computer mediums get old, burn out, memory turns faulty, computers crash. People age, live their lives, then die, hopefully replaced by the next generation. In essence, we are all recycled and replaced.

"Given a long enough timeframe, the survivability rate of everyone drops to zero."

So what is the point? I know I don't wish to expire. What makes ourselves different from every other living thing? Do you think a plant worries about it's own demise? Your pet dog? I don't think so. Maybe on a primal level all living things are concerned about their own survival, but we are different right? We have a intuitive brain, a psyche, a idea of self that goes above and beyond the primal.

So what are we to do to make our own pre-scripted recycling more accepted? An endless quest to achieve happiness no matter what the cost? At the end will the whole experience be priceless? Will the process be worth it? Or would it matter? If you are gone, what's the point? Point being that if your outside world causes an emotional reaction in you, which creates a thought, a feeling to appease you. At the moment of saying goodbye, will you feel regret or content? It pains me to think that my parents may go the way of the former. Then that's what could be important, for in essence, when all that is gone, so are you.

Day 13-Appeasing the inner voice

Here's what I've been pondering today. If this inner roommate of ours will be stuck to our sides incessantly yapping away, and we have absolutely no choice but to bear with it, we might as well make it as pleasant as possible. The idea is to not give it anything bad, stressful, controversial or negative in general. If this inner voice is positive most of the time, it may actually be pleasant to be around. I figure that it shouldn't be any other way. If it has to ramble on about something, it might as well be good. Chances are too, if its good enough, maybe it can, and hopefully will be appreciative enough to just shut up for a minute and enjoy the situation.

Today was a pleasant day as I spent the day at the beach. It was cold and windy, a typical winter day, and the fog was rolling in thick. I picked up a Prima Deli sandwich, loaded Jenny in the truck and headed for the coast.

I'll load some pictures in a day or so, but right now the server only let me load a video clip.

Unfortunately, I can't take Jenny to many more beaches. Besides her deep seeded fears of water, she hates wind and weather and loud noises. So, the beach on a blustery day isn't the best place for her. At Bean Hollow Beach, she wouldn't stop whining and barking for no reason. I ended up cutting this beach short and packed up to Pebble Beach where I left Jenny in the warm truck.

All the beaches were surprisingly crowded for bad weather, but I still managed to find a spot of my own to sit and eat my sandwich. I explored a while after eating, climbing and rambling over rocks and tide pools, taking pictures and videos and just enjoying the beach. I thankfully am one of those people that can enjoy a beach and the ocean under any weather. I call it admiration for a power that is greater than I. I spent a few hours out, took my time driving home, and stopped at a pair of markets to pick up groceries for the parents. After a few more hours at home we ate a good dinner, watched a flick and I retired early to finish watching the first half of Grindhouse that I downloaded on my laptop. I'll lose an hour of sleep tonight as Cali went on daylight savings, something I haven't had to do in the past 13 years in Arizona.

Day 12-conversations and memories with my internal roommate

It's been about 16 years since I made a 22 mile deathride. In fact, the last time I made this ride, I made it with the same bike I rode today, the 17 year old last generation steel frame bikes that is seeking retirement, especially since the high and low gears are virtually inaccessible. I'm stuck in the middle, which is utterly useless for nice flat straightaways or uphill. Conveniently for me, this trip was 11 miles mostly uphill and 11 miles downhill, which meant I'd be screwed both ways. I did it anyways. Up Alameda, up Woodside rd (by the way, that hill can kiss my ass), down the scenic Mountain Home Rd, over to Portola rd and finally up to the apex of Alpine rd where, unless you wished a asskicking beyond the current one, you could continue up the dirt road to the summit. Instead I chose not to and just relaxed by the same creek that Dirty Ryan and I used to frequent on our rides, have a sandwich by, or just to contemplate life at. The return was significantly easier, with the effervescent feeling of flight from going downhill, albeit, not as fast seeing I didn't have my 1-7 gears.





















(The view sitting down at the halfway point, Alpine rd)























(somehow helmets always made me look superfat)
I came home, definitely toasted. My ass and arms were numb. We made salmon on the grill for dinner. Afterwards, I took Jenny on a walk and thought more.
That's exactly what I did, is contemplate life. Through some research and personal thinking I've come to realize that life, for the most part is unalterable by really direct means, especially when it comes to finding your "self". The world and time will unfold in front of you no matter what, and you will automatically react to it.
Meet your inner roommate. One that you can never get rid of. He/she is that voice in your head. Whether you like it or not, they're always there, and mostly yapping away. Think about what it is in regards to yourself. Your inner voice, your thoughts, are not truly you. Your inner voice thinks about what is interacting in your outside life. For obvious reasons, your outside life isn't what makes you. Look at it from the inside out in stages.
Look up from your computer and find an object to look at, anything, it doesn't matter. Say its a painting. That painting is obviously not "you". Yet you react to it. You take an outside object and process it in your mind and react to it. In effect creating an alternate, justified and reasoned existence, an alternate reality to substitute for the current outside one.
Outside influences.
Reactions to those influences=emotions.
Your alternate reality sees the painting as pretty. The painting doesn't think it is pretty, you do, in your mind.
Outside influences
Emotions.
You react to those emotions by thought. Your inner voice says that " the painting is pretty." Are you a thought? No. Thought is a reaction to an emotion or outside influence.
Past or present or future, we all have a roommate that reacts by thoughts to the outside reality.
Think of it like this, next time you have a thought, or inner monologue, or whatever you like to call that voice in your head, imagine that voice manifested into a actual person at your side at all times yapping in your ear. You are the listener to your inner voice and thoughts. So who is the listener?
Outside influences
Emotional reactions
Thought/inner voice
Self.
If you can step back and listen to yourself, and have the ability to be aware of your thoughts, view them in first person, you have reached the self. It's you, your consciousness.
If there were no objects or subjects to react to, we'd have no thoughts, and with no thoughts, we would have no consciousness, therefore you should not exist.
Don't try to have a conversation with or try to stop your inner voice from talking. Anything you have to say to your voice would still be...wait for it...yes, your inner voice. Ask your inner voice if you are thirsty right now. Go ahead, ask. Whatever the answer, it's still your voice having a conversation with itself.
Annoying or frustrating concept right? Since you can't get rid of it or shut it up, you need to learn to live with it. By trying to get to the point of knowing that you are the listener, you should be able to become conscious and aware, and be able to realize your self, and for a time, be able to ignore that voice that runs your world and for once, be true to your self. By doing that, you can be true to others. If that entails inner bliss and thus making other people happy, then sign me and my voice up. My voice is tired and needs to sleep.